Broken Glass
by Hotshot
Summary: It started out as a one-shot featuring Snoddy, then sort of changed to Jack/David. Starts after Jack tells David to get away from him. What's he supposed to tell the guys, huh? Slash warning.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer:  If I owned the newsies do you honestly think I'd spend my time sitting here writing about them.  I don't own any of the newsies in this story.  ::Sad face::  Hmm… I wonder how much a  newsie costs these days.  Just enjoy, R&R.

Broken Glass

By Hotshot

The others all came back long before David did.  Race started his card and dice games in the square and we all joined in, but no one was paying attention.  Even Race couldn't focus on any of the games at hand.  Subconsciously, I think we all thought Jack would be coming back with David.  I mean, Jack had trained this guy in basically all the ways of the newsies.  It had only been a few weeks since he'd joined but Dave knew more of us and had gained the trust of more than I did during my first month here.

                This novice newsboy knew newsies from every borough, and two of the most powerful leaders had accepted him almost no questions asked.  This would have looked like a small feat to an outsider, but to us it was somewhat of amazement.  If something happened to Spot or Jack there was no doubt in my mind that he could step into their place and every boy here would follow without question. 

                Jack had taken David with him to get Crutchy out.  Now David had sent everyone else back because they were taking Jack somewhere else.  I wasn't worried though, David was a smart guy.  He'd figure something out.  

                A hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality.  It was Skittery.

                "You won," he stated, his voice distracted.  The look in his eyes and his stance portrayed the same message.  He handed me my winnings as Race dealt the cards again.

                Eventually we gave up on getting through any more games and just sat back to wait.  Kloppman would lock us out soon if we didn't get back to the lodging house.  Maybe he'll make an exception considering, this is Jack we're talking about I thought to myself.

                We all spotted David walking through the thick, dark, heavy night air.  Everyone must have though the same as me; that Jack was behind him coming in through the light fog.  We were just waiting for him to appear at the last second, always the tragic hero.  He didn't.  David approached us his pace slow, steady and deliberate.  He kept that proud look about him that he always has and stood straight and tall.  Anyone would have seen a confident boy if they didn't pay attention to detail.  But, as newsies, we always paid attention to even the slightest detail.  David's downfall was in his face.  Lines of worry creased his forehead and his deep blue eyes displayed something unplaceable.  Worry perhaps, uncertainty, shame.  Wait, no, it couldn't be, fear?  He turned his eyes to the ground before anyone could really read them.

                "Where is he Dave?" Mush asked, "Where'd they take him?"

                "They took him to Pulitzer's mansion.  I don't know what Pulitzer said to him but I saw them.  I couldn't get through to him."  A look of shame masked his face.

                "So he's still back at the refuge?" Dutchy asked.  He didn't sound the least bit worried, but then again, Dutchy never does.  I swear he's the calmest person I know.

                "Yeah," David suddenly found his shoes interesting again, "I guess."

                "So, what're we gonna do now?" Kid Blink stood from his seat against the statue of Horace Greeley, and stretched his legs.  "What do we do without Jack?"

                "We go on with the strike, "Race supplied, "Did you really think we'd get through this whole thing without a few of us getting thrown in the refuge.  We knew it was gonna happen.  We'll go on with our strike tomorrow and try to get him out again tomorrow night, ain't that right Dave."

                "Yeah, Dave agreed, a renewed strength seemed to enter his face.  "First thing tomorrow outside the Distribution Center.  Just 'cause one of us gets locked up is no reason to stop the strike."

                "How long you bums think it'll take to get him out of the refuge tomorrow night?" Bumlets asked, he directed his gaze at those who had tried to get him out that night.

                "I dunno," Boots contemplated the question for a moment, "What d'you think David?"

                David shrugged, "We'll have to figure it out later.  It's getting late.  My parents will get worried if I don't get Les home soon."  His voice rose an octave as he looked around, "Where's Les?"

                "Chill, Mouth, he's sleepin'." A new voice spoke from the corner of the statue.  Spot was sitting there letting Les use him as a pillow.  It was far past the young boy's bedtime and it showed as it looked as though the noise of the rally wouldn't have been able to wake him.  "Was asleep almost before these guys got back here."

                David picked his younger brother up carefully, not that he could have woken Les up, and nodded to everyone.  "You guys should probably head back to the lodging house soon.  Kloppman's might have let you in late if we had Jack but he might think you were out creating chaos again.  I'll see you guys tomorrow."  He turned and began to walk off.  

                We all began standing up, most of us looking after him.  His voice had been somewhat strained, and the look on his face, it was indescribable.  Slowly each boy set his own pace and walked across the square in the direction of the lodging house.  I stood for a moment looking at the statue.  Horace Greeley, a newspaperman, how ironic.  We spent a good part of every day surrounding a statue that represented what we were fighting against. 

                "Hey Snoddy!  Step on it!" Specs' voice called back from the crowd.  

                It took me a moment to realize I was the only one still standing there.  I sighed and followed them, jogging to the spot where they all waited for me.  We had to stick together these days.   I mean, Denton ditched us, how did we know some others might not do the same?  For some reason though I wasn't sure Dave had told us everything.  Every word he'd said had been forced.  I really wanted to believe him but there was a nagging sensation in the back of my mind that I just couldn't place.

                The lodging house was almost silent.  It was unbelievable.  Everyone who was there had expected us to come back with him.  Snipeshooter's face fell, and no one was really talking.  Even a few of Spot's select Brooklyn boys remained quiet.  A few of them knew Jack but none knew him like us.  It was the first night I can remember that Kloppman didn't come up to tell us to shut up and go to bed.  He came and stood in the doorway for a few minutes, I guess watching us in our depressed states.  He never said 'go to bed', just nodded at any of the boys who glanced his way almost as if to say, 'you know what you're doing.'  He must have figured it would just be us older guys talking.

                Everyone basically crawled into bed and went to sleep; still sore from the working over we'd gotten from the bulls and those damn thugs.  Somehow sleep came easy to everyone, exhaustion maybe.  I couldn't sleep though; I mean how could I?  I couldn't help thinking about Jack.  Him not being in the lodging house with us just didn't feel right.  I didn't even want to imagine what we'd do if it became impossible to get him out.  

                He was after all the one that brought me in.  I mean most of the guys here have hated me for a short period of time because of who I am.  Richard 'Snoddy' Delancy.  Yes, I was related to those awful thugs that probably collected those scabs to go along with those cops at the rally.  I am nothing like my brothers.  I don't know why but I just turned out different.  Maurice made up his awful little initiation thing where each of us needed to beat up one of the newsies.  He wanted me to beat up Skittery, I mean the guy had enough problems; I didn't want him to be afraid of me too.  So I told him to get out of there, and they beat me up instead.  I moved out of Uncle Weasel's place after that.  Jack and Skittery were the ones who convinced the guys to let me stay when they found out who I was.  What would I have done without him.

                I guess I must have drifted off during my little trip down memory lane because the next thing I knew someone's hand was on my shoulder and I was being shaken, "Hey Snoddy, wake up."  I rolled over and opened my eyes to find Pie Eater standing next to my bed.

                "Time…" I managed, sleep still gripping my senses.

                "Almost five," he yawned, "Race and Spot have been waking everyone up quietly.  Supposedly Kloppman was up all night tryin' to find some loophole to get Jack out or something."  

                I just nodded, dragging myself slowly from my bunk when all I wanted to do was fall back and bury my face under the pillow.  Everyone else looked to be in the same state of wakefulness.  It was the first day I can remember where there were no mock fights or shouting contests.  We dressed, gathered our signs and went.

                Talking finally started when we met up with David on the way to the Distribution Center.  More boys from different boroughs and lodging houses joined us along the way as well.  I guess I'm not really overly optimistic, but it was amazing, the number of boys we'd had the night before.  I can't even begin to imagine the total number of boys that packed that theater.  Now our numbers were far smaller.  There were boys in every borough that had to fight at their own distribution centers, fight their own battles, and their own 'Weasel' figures.  We still looked like a large number though, a small army perhaps, but I really didn't expect us to accomplish much that day, we needed our ringleader.

                Problems arose at the crack of dawn.  Newspaper wagons were gathering inside the gates.  The bulls were lining up in front of the gates already.  I had to grin at that.  Many of them were hiding long yawns behind their gloved hands.  Sorry to get you up so early boys I thought but it's about time you actually worked for a living.  Scabs walked in through the back these days, y'know, to keep us from killing them.  The police officers were blocking us from inflicting any real damage and a few of the boys yelled for us to attack.  Their only response was Spot's loud, demanding voice telling them to hold their ground.  He wanted to keep it peaceful, like David had said during the rally.

                The yelling began as they started loading up the paper wagons.  We formed our huge mass stretching completely across the street in front of the gates.  If they wanted to do this the hard way we were ready for them.

                "Stop the World!  No More Papes!  Stop the World!  No More Papes!  Stop the World!  No More Papes!"  Our cries echoed off the tall buildings.  The chant was quiet at first, only a few boys having the courage to yell.  One by one everyone else joined in, until the loudest sound you ever heard filled the area.  I'm sure our yelling was waking up everyone in that part of town.

                The boys were getting frustrated a mere half an hour later. The wagons were just starting to leave and every time we were forced to let them through.  Whether it was the cops pushing us back, the scabs waving their clubs, or just the speed of the carriage we always moved.  Fight started erupting after the Queens carriage passed.  It was mostly the younger kids, just sick of all the yelling doing nothing.  What the hell were we doing, fighting amongst ourselves would get us nowhere.

                "Race!" David yelled to be heard above the din, "Race, help me!  I need some help!"  As he spoke he took a firm hold of the front of Racetrack's vest.

                Race slapped his hands off, "All right!  I ain't deaf!" 

                The two of them and Spot began going among the fighting groups to break them up.  Spot's voice could be heard clearly as the scabs started to reach the gate, newspapers in hand.  "Hey, hey, hey! Break it up!" he ordered a younger group of boys that were shoving each other none to lightly.  At his command they stopped almost immediately.  If what happened next hadn't happened I can only imagine the smirk that would have washed over Spot's face at being listened to by boys he couldn't even name.

                But it did happen.  Spot's eyes caught sight of something on the far side of the gate, and his entire head snapped up.  "Race," he motioned with his hands to the newsie who stood a few steps behind him, "Come here."

                Most of us turned to where Spot was looking.  I felt as though my stomach had dropped to my feet.  It couldn't be, could it?  My awful uncle was there, leading out a scab dressed in a fancy gray coat and pants, a brand new suit, holding onto him as though her feared the boy would bolt if given the chance.  I studied the face and the hair, those eyes.  It couldn't be, it just couldn't.

                "What?" Race asked, not yet catching Spot's glance.

                "Tell me I'm seein' things," Spot stuttered, "Just, just tell me I'm seein' things."  Race's eyes fell on the same figure.

                "No you ain't seein' things, that's Jack.  What's he doing?" Race's words caught the attention of every newsie there and all faces were suddenly locked on that one person.

                "But he's dressed like a scabber." That was the first and only time I can honestly say I thought I saw a look of shock in his eyes.

                Mush was the first to approach the line of cops that kept us all from walking up to Jack.  A few of them put their arms in a restraining stance in frond of him.  "Jack?  Jack, look at me, will ya?  Come on, it's me, Mush.  Look at me.  What are you doin' Jack?"  The sense of betrayal in his voice and the look on his child-like face was just pitiful.  I didn't know how our own leader could be doing this to us.  

                Kid Blink was next to gather up his strength and courage.  His look was very different from Mush's though.  It was one of confusion, disbelief, maybe even some craziness to some extent.  "This ain't happening.  This can't be happening.  What are you doin' Jack?  Come on, what are you doin'?"  He looked as if he might try to jump the cops to get to Jack.  No one wanted to see him get hurt again.  Bruises still remained from his run-in with the cops at the rally.  Itey seized a quick opportunity, pulling Blink back from the front lines.

                Boots wasn't far behind.  Had it been under different circumstances it would have been funnd to see two cops hold back a small boy like him.  "Come on.  What is this?  Where'd he get them clothes?"

                Weasel grinned, "Mr. Pulitzer picked them out himself.  A special gift for a special new employee."  As he said it he straightened Jack's jacked and grinned.  Jack shifted uncomfortably.  Spot was the first to figure everything out.

                "He sold us out!" The boy's voice rose as he yelled.  Much more than anger was evident to be wrapping itself around his words.  I swear I thought stem would start pouring out his ears any second.  

                Race began yelling, "I'll give you a new suit!  You bum!  I'll soak ya!  Ya fink, I swear I'll soak ya!"  I didn't even want to think about what was going on in Race's head right at that moment.  He'd known Jack longer than anyone else.  And, well, without Jack he was probably the one that would be left in charge.  A look of the uttermost hatred frosted over Race's eyes and his face told of nothing but disgust.

                But Spot was not about to be undone.  He tried to jump past the cops, failing probably only because he was so short.  I knew he had more than enough adrenaline at that moment to get passed them.  His cane drawn like sword he began yelling, trying to fight his way past.  "Hey, hey, hey!  Let me get my hands dirty!  Come here you, dirty, rotten scabber!"  Race, Mush, Skittery, and Kid blink all ran to grab Spot and pull him back.  They passed him back to others standing behind them, who dragged him to the back of the group.  He yelled the whole way.  "Traitor!  I'll kill you!"  Those two phrases still stand out in my mind.  There is no doubt to me, or probably anyone else, that if Spot had found Jack that day he wouldn't be alive.  Spot is awful to fight against.  When four of our boys were holding him beck it took all their strength to keep him from getting loose.  For that I will always respect Spot Conlon; he always holds his ground, and refuses reason.

David hadn't said a word through any of this.  He was pacing along the front line.  That is, until Weasel spotted him.  "Aww, you wanna talk to him.  Come on, come on.  Go right ahead."  The cops let David through and he walked up to Jack slowly.  They looked each other in the eye for a moment before David spoke, "So, this is why you didn't escape last night." He grabbed ahold of Jack's jacket in an annoyed gesture.  "You're a liar! You lied about everything. You lied about your father being out west, 'cause he's not out west! You didn't even tell me your real name!"  His eyes were wide and the creases were back in his forehead.  

"So," Jack shrugged it off as if it didn't matter, "What you wanna do about it, Dave?"  The look on his face was sour, and reminded me of some unlikable person.  

David tipped his head to the side a little, "I don't understand you."

"Oh, so let me spell it out for ya.  You see, I don't got nobody tuckin' me in every night, like you."  The look he gave David right then was full of something, not hate, but close.  "It's just me, I gotta look out for myself."

I shook my head.  Didn't all of us do the same?  You didn't see us running to Pulitzer to pay us off, did you?  

"You had the newsies," David argued.

"Oh, what'd bein' a newsie ever give me but a dime a day and a few black eyes?" A few of us stared at him in shock, what was he thinking.  "You know, I can't afford to be a kid no more, Dave.  For the first time in my life, I got money in my pockets.  Real money.  Money, you understand.  I got more on the way and as soon as I collect, I'm gone, I'm away, alright?"

David's face changed, "Well that's good.  That's good because we don't need you!  We don't need you!  All those words you said, those were mind."

It was now that I caught my uncle looking at me.  I met his glare with an icy on of my own.  This was how he wanted it.  He'd always hated Jack and this was his revenge, getting back at him in front of all his friends, everyone he cared about.  Oh, how I hated that man, another day to remind me why I left.

A smug look crossed Jack's face, "Yeah, but you never had the guts to put them across yourself, didja?" 

David swallowed, "I do now." He barely got the words out.  He turned to come back toward us but stopped after a few steps.  I knew the looks on everyone's faces.  Mush's was pathetic.  Some were angry, others scared, sad.  Just as mix of disappointment, worry, and maybe hope.  I took a deep breath knowing what I'd be doing if I was David right about then.  David looked us all over slowly, taking in each person's face.  He turned back to face Jack.

"S'matter?" Jack sneered, "Got a problem?"

David launched himself at Jack and I know we all wanted to see blood.  Two cops got there first, pulling David back before Dave could so much as land a punch.  

"Maybe, maybe you'd like a new suit of your own, huh?" Weasel provoked him.

Without a moments hesitation David yelled back,  "Never, never."

"Get outta here!  Get outta here!" Weasel shouted as the cops pushed him back into our swelling crowd.  

"I'm not like you!" David's cry went unheard by some, but I heard it, and by the look on his face so did Jack.

The cops surrounded Weasel as he pulled Jack along through our growing numbers so no one would go after him.  Many tried to reach through and hit him.  Someone almost got his hat, but he pulled it off his head before they got a tight enough grasp.  More shouting started.  

"Lookit, yaself, huh." Mush's voice was almost unrecognizable.  Emotion was playing heavily upon it.

"I trusted you!" Was all I heard from Boots.  He was just a kid compared to most of us, but he was close to Jack.  

"Traitor!" Spot screamed, trying to break through to him, "C'mon."

You piece of shit!" Kid Blink slung an arm around Boots' shoulder to keep from falling as he yelled.  

Race was the last to raise his voice as he called after the group, "Seize the day, huh, Jack!"  His face was set more determined than ever, and almost set in stone like a Brooklynite's.  The sarcasm in his voice was heavy and noticeable in some serious way.

"He's foolin' 'em, so he can spy on 'em or sumthin'.  Yeah, yeah, that's it.  He's foolin' 'em."  Les continued his protests.  Jack was his hero, and hero's didn't just go and turn scab overnight.

"Yeah, he's spyin' on them kid."  Race tried to reassure him pulling the brim of his hat down over his face.  David patted his little brother on the back.  

It took a few minutes to get everyone back into the spirit and begin the yelling again.  "Stop the World!  No more papes!  Stop the scabs!"

I don't know what happened but there was a change in everyone.  Every face was set a little more seriously, every body held more rigid with pride.  The relaxed looks of little kids trying to have fun and live it up was replaced by a look of almost pure hatred and a determination never to be matched.  My friends, whom I'd never seen look anything other than carefree looked depressed and deeply disturbed.  I honestly wondered if someone had placed me in some kind of alternate universe.

That's when I was reminded.  The look on each of their faces reminded me.  The ultimate betrayal had occurred.  Jack, our leader, our representative, and our friend had betrayed us.  Just when we thought we were finally getting somewhere with this strike the one who ran things up and left.  First Denton ditched us, now Jack.  Isn't it just like life to come back and kick you in the ass like that?  

After the afternoon edition we trudged back to the lodging house.  Fights started among our boys but no one even had the urge to try and stop them.  Finally after Dutchy got bowled over by some big Brooklyn kid Spot got fed up with it all.

"Enough!" he spat, "Little kids, downstairs."  Even as he glared at Boots and Snipeshooter they refused to move.  Only Les left the room, and that was only at David's urgings.  "Alright, Mouth, spill it.  Tell us what happened last night."

David's eyes swelled with that determined look that he showed when they'd stood onstage at the rally, when they'd faced the cops and won the fight.  "They brought him to Pulitzer's mansion, like I said."

"There's more." It wasn't really a statement or a question, but things Racetrack said often sounded like that.

"No shit," David seethed, "I hopped the back of the carriage and took out the pin that connected the horses harness.  Then I just sat in the bushes and waited.  When Snyder brought him out he wasn't holding his arm.  I yelled and he slid down the banister.  The driver tried to chase us but only succeeded in getting pulled 'cross Pulitzer's driveway by his horses.  Jack was, I don't know, he had this thankful look in his eyes like he was happy to get out alive.  We ran to about Fifth Ave.  He stopped in that alley back there, and I told him to keep running.  He told me that they'd put me in jail, which really makes no difference to me.  Then he told me to get out of there.  I refused and he screamed, so I left.  I thought he'd just wander around the streets and be back here by morning.  He just, I don't know, he looked trapped.  You guys know Jack; he's always got a plan.  He looked lost."   

Spot spat on the ground.  "Well it looks like Jacky boy finally found something better than being a newsie, didn't he."  He didn't even bother to hide the bitterness that his voice held.  "He's a scab and he's better off than he was here."

"We gotta keep the strike going," Kid Blink said.

"Blink, were you'se at the distribution center today," Spot snapped, "It's over.  The big shots won.  They took away your leader.  Sure I'm still here but not for long.  I'se goin' back to Brooklyn.  And next time you boys had better have a damned good reason for asking me for help."  He turned on a heel and stormed towards the window.

"What, you afraid to lose?"

The question stopped him dead in his tracks.  "I ain't afraid of nothin'.  All I know is that I ain't gonna stay here because some scab asked me to help.  I ain't gonna back you guys unless I have a reason to believe you can still fight.  And to tell you the truth; without Jack you're hopeless.  I suggest you watch it around me Mouth, I told ya I ain't afraid of nuthin', and I have no problem soaking you if ya accuse me of bein' scared again."  He was gone before anyone else could get a word in.    

              Things were quiet as it got dark that night.  No one was up for doing anything.  Race wasn't even in the mood to start a poker game, and had he been the other guys probably wouldn't have joined him.  All of the boys from different boroughs that had come to support us were leaving, following Spot's lead.  What else did I honestly expect?  We were independent contractors, each only there to take care of himself.  Sure, we pulled together as a team, but these were rough times, they, like Jack, needed to watch out for themselves.

                I walked downstairs later.  Everyone who'd planned on leaving had left, and it was, well, quiet.  There were a few quiet conversations in the corners but no one dared to speak too loudly.  I honestly believe that anyone who came in would think Jack had died instead of just changed sides.  I didn't want to deal with it anymore.  I nodded to Race and David, who were chatting at one of the tables about what to do next.  David looked depressed.  There had been something strong between him and Jack, more like brother ship than friendship, but what did I know.  I made my way into Kloppman's office and told him I was going out.  I'd be back in a while.  Though it was already past curfew he promised to leave the door unlocked.

                I let my feet take me wherever they wanted to go figuring maybe they'd bring me to a bar or to the scene of a fight where I could drown my sorrows in watching someone else ruin their life.  I never thought I'd end up where I did; in front of the distribution center.  That was exactly where they stopped.  I looked at the building that was the home to so many good times in my past.  All the times Jack had gotten my brothers chasing him or the mock arguments everyone had.  And then I thought of lately, how much pain it had caused.  The strike, Jack, my awful family all stemmed from that appalling place.  

                There were still lights on inside, and I could hear voices.  I didn't have to get any closer to know who it was.    Life would have been so much easier if I could have just blamed them for all that had happened.  Weasel was partly responsible and so were my brother, but my main hatred went to Pulitzer.  However, I couldn't do anything to hurt Pulitzer.  It would be just as easy this way.  I looked around on the ground, and found exactly what I was looking for.

                I brought my arm back and drove it forward releasing the piece of a broken cobblestone.  I had good aim, only because of the hours I'd spent in the park playing catch with Skittery.  The window above the caged off area shattered and yelling was heard from inside.  In their haste to get away from the window one of them must have knocked over the candle because the building went dark.  I knew they were still yelling inside but couldn't hear it because my mind blocked out all sounds except one.  The broken glass was raining down, inside and out.  It reminded me of our strike; one crack and it was over.

                The cops would be there soon a voice in my head told me.  I turned and sprinted back to the lodging house.  Kloppman was still in his office, going over bookwork or something.

                "If the bulls come here no one's been out all night," I said.

                He looked up, but said nothing.

                I caught sight of myself in the mirror he kept in his office.  I was somewhat red from running and breathing so heavily that my chest heaved.  I could have laughed, I looked dangerous for once.  "Me and the fellas were here all night, and no one left.  Alright Kloppman."

                "Very good," he said.  He waved his hair in a motion for me to go up to bed.

                That night I lay in bed, not thinking about the strike for the first time all week.  Well, I guess it could be related to the strike.  It wasn't about Jack either, I'd forget about him soon enough, all of us would.  The only thing I could hear was the sound of breaking glass falling to the ground echoing through my ears.

A/N: Definitely not my best work but it's ok.  I've seen a bunch of people do little continuances of parts of the movie that it doesn't show and all have been pretty good.  If anyone wants to redo this part go ahead.  I just hope yours sounds better than mine.  Btw,I own the idea of Snoddy being a Delancy.

~Hotshot~~~


	2. Crash and Burn

Disclaimer:  Agh, awful things.  I do not own the newsies ::sobs::  I really wish I did.  Do you think Disney loans them out for parties?  I don't own the song either.  That would be Savage Garden's 'Crash and Burn.' I really like their album lately.  I have a few more fics planned for their songs.

Broken Glass

Chapter Two

By Hotshot

                A/N: I honestly never planned to write another chapter.  It would just be a little one shot because I needed something to relieve some stress and just to write something.  I will also warn you in advance: This chapter will contain slash.  And SaL, I know you're gonna hate me for it but… well ::shrugs::  I hope you all enjoy this.  By the way the beginning of this chapter is from David's point of view.

                I hated him for what he did.  I am not the sort of person to hold grudges but I swore to myself that I would hate Jack Kelly or Francis Sullivan, or whoever he was until the day I died.  It's so hard to go against human nature though.  As soon as I saw him running into that alley I knew I would forgive him.  He hurt the Delancy's whereas I couldn't even land a decent punch.  I wonder how I'm going to survive as a newsie if I can't even fight.  Before he even spoke I forgave him, but I didn't need to act like it.

                "What, you couldn't stay away?" I sneered.

                "I guess I can't be somthin' I ain't," he responded.  

                "A scab."

                "Naw, smart."

                Had we been in another situation I might have laughed.  Things were often like that in my life.  I had to forgive him, I don't know why but it was something I had to do.  We retreated to the apartment on Sarah's urging.  I honestly wonder how I'm related to that girl sometimes.  She made us read Denton's article.  I didn't believe what I'd heard, but had to admit it was worth the chance of rejection to ask for his help.  

                The planning went well.  Jack knew just where to find a press to print our banner.  As we walked down I could barely imagine anyone working there, much less living there.  There were so many people to seek revenge on for their parts in this.  Jack uncovering brought me back to our current situation the old press.

                "All right, a blatant press." Denton was grinning form ear to ear.

                "Will it work?" I asked.  I was the only one willing to be pessimistic, but someone needed to take up the role.

                "It better; we have a deadline."

                The work was a slow tedious process until we started to actually get going.  We worked through the night at almost a neck breaking speed.  All right so I'm exaggerating a bit but we were working pretty quickly to get it done.  Les had run to catch a few of the boys, and brought them back to start circulating.  Swifty was going to Brooklyn with some copies and Racetrack and Boots were fetching the rest of the boys.  Denton and Sarah were going to convince a man to lend them a newspaper cart.  I guess Denton figured Sarah could use her feminine ways or something like that.  Jack and me finally got to sit down and talk.  I joined him on the stairs with a side.  He'd been silent for a while, since our work ended, so I took the first step.

                "Jack?"

                He looked up at me with a sad look in his eyes. "I'm sorry Dave," he whispered.

                I almost shuddered, "Jack, just do me one favor.  I don't care about the lies.  Let's start over.  Tell me about yourself, about your past?"

                He looked at me, "You really want to know?"

                "Yes."

                He took a long drag on his cigarette.     

 __

_When you feel all alone  
And the world has turned it's back on you  
Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart  
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you  
It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold  
When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore_

"I'm all alone in this world Dave," he said.  "Sure I have the newsies, but after we leave how many of them are going to recognize me or stop me on the streets."

He went on.  The entire world had been turning it's back on him since he was a kid.  His mother had died of a disease when he was barely ten, and his father turned to alcohol.  I'd heard the story before, and I'd seen Jack's scars.  He'd changed from his new suit back to his old clothes in front of all of us.  The marks across his shoulders were definitely from a belt.  Just when things got better for Jack they'd tried to take him away, his father had gone to jail.  He lost everything.  Then he found it again in the newsies.  For a while anyway.  Now Pulitzer was trying to take it all away, and almost succeeding.

He'd finally gotten caught, fenced in by people and things he knew.  He had to do something with his life.  He was the kind of person that would be ruined if contained.  Locking him up would surely mean death.  Smart men, men like David, and unfortunately Pulitzer knew that.  Pulitzer had given him the one way out.  He could go beck to his old life and stay trapped within those walls forever, in a box that was slowly shrinking, or he could be free.

No one moment with the newsies had helped him as of late.  They all hated him for sure and were only acting as they were to win their strike.  Once it was over his life would be as well.  Since the whole thing started Jack had been under the most pressure.  He was there leader; her had to have all the answers.  Not a single moment of relief had come to him since the whole thing started.  And the people, if he slipped up they would, and had, turned on him.

He admitted to David then that Pulitzer's help had only made it worse.  His box was smaller than ever, and lonelier.  It was one from which there was no escape.  He'd tried to kill himself the night before.  Someone, he hoped one of his boys had shattered the window upstairs.  He showed David the small cuts on his wrists from the attempt.  They were scratched and crudely bandaged.  The scratches may have left scars but they were not enough to inflict damage.  "But I couldn't even do that right." He cried, "I couldn't even kill myself to get rid of all this pain."

_  
  
Let me be the one you call  
If you jump I'll break your fall  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night  
If you need to fall apart  
I can mend a broken heart  
If you need to crash then crash and burn  
You're not alone_

"I'm here for you Jack," David said.  "You may not think I am but I'm here for you, and so are all the other guys."  Tears were almost flowing down Jack's cheeks.  The leader tried to hold them back be wasn't succeeding.  David wrapped an arm around Jacks shoulder and shushed him.  "You'll get through this.  We'll fix it.  How about I tell you my story?"

Jack nodded that that would be good.

_  
  
When you feel all alone  
And a loyal friend is hard to find  
You're caught in a one way street  
With the monsters in your head  
When hopes and dreams are far away and  
You feel like you can't face they day  
  
_

He was gay.  Everyone at his school knew it; that was why he wasn't very eager to go back.  He'd been harassed there his entire life, or at least as long as he could remember.  There were those few friends.  They didn't care what he was, but they never lasted long.  They always moved on to someone new, like a child does to a new toy.  They found someone better.  They joined the others and became his tormentors. 

Society told him exactly what to do.  Ignore it, ignore everything he was feeling.  He was trapped even now that it was gone.  All of it was gone; all the people and taunting faces.  The words were still there.  It seemed like a monster was screaming inside his head whenever he dared to think in that way.  All of them back to haunt him.

He still worked.  His parents wanted him to be a lawyer.  It wasn't what he wanted.  He had his own hopes and dreams.  To be a doctor, to find someone he cared about.  Everything was out of reach for it.  He could still see himself as a little child trying to reach the hat a bully held just out of the reach of his hands.  It was how he felt about this strike too.  It was a metaphor to his life.  He needed to win and prove he could do it.  His dreams were all too far out of reach for his own good.

Since it had all started he had forced himself to face the day.  It became more impossible every morning with the new challenges.  He'd almost refused to get up that morning.

_  
Let me be the one you call  
If you jump I'll break your fall  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night  
If you need to fall apart  
I can mend a broken heart  
If you need to crash then crash and burn  
You're not alone  
  
_

It was Jack's turn to comfort his friend.  There were other newsies like David.  None really talked about it but it was accepted.  David was a part of the family in Manhattan, the having no friends part of his life was long over, and they wouldn't leave as long as he didn't give them a reason.  He was going to accomplish something worthwhile in his life, even if it was only leading a strike.  Hell, he'd talked the Spot Conlon into joining with Manhattan on his second day as a newsie.

_  
Because there has always been heartache and pain  
And when it's over you'll breathe again  
You'll breath again_

Jack wiped away a tear that was making its way down David's cheek.  "It's gonna be all right David.  We'll make it through the tough stuff.  We always do."

David looked at his friend.  His heart was hammering in his chest and his breathing became labored in a sense.  He tried to stop trembling to no avail.  His arm had dropped from Jack's shoulder to wipe away the tears as they started.  Now it was Jack's arm around his shoulder.  He wanted to speak but found his voice trapped in his throat.  _  
  
When you feel all alone  
And the world has turned its back on you  
Give me a moment please  
To tame your wild wild heart_

Jack leaned forward and with all the tenderness in the world kissed him.  The voices that had been echoing in David's head, the taunts of cruel classmates, stopped.  It was over.  His suffering was over and done with.  He was too shocked to do anything for a moment, thinking he was dreaming.  He leaned into Jack, trying to get the full effect of the kiss. It was the most wonderful moment of his life.  _  
  
Let me be the one you call  
If you jump I'll break your fall  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night  
If you need to fall apart  
I can mend a broken heart  
If you need to crash then crash and burn  
You're not alone_

The others came back soon enough.  Jack and David were waiting for them.  The Manhattan newsies wore enthusiastic smiles on their face.  Denton and Sarah had the carriage.  No one would know what had happened in that room for quite a while, but the two would not deny it had happened.  Papers were handed out.  The boys ran in different directions to find the sweatshop kids who were already hard at work.  Some stayed to load up Denton's wagon before they left.  After Denton had crawled out through the window Jack turned quickly to David.

"This might be my last day with you guys.  I'll be in solitary for months if the bulls catch me.  Let's make it count." He said.

David kissed him shortly and swiftly on the lips.  "We will," he whispered, "I promise.  And I'll make sure we win if it's the last thing I do."  

The grins plastered on the two's faces would have melted your heart if you saw them right then.  It was one of indescribable happiness and a knowing of one's self that guaranteed anyone that the two had found what they were looking for.


End file.
